Dice INHERITANCE OOC

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Chatter goes in here; plot, shitpost, query.

 

[Grey]

Random Word yutohase myrkwise

 

[yutohase]

Hello hello!

 

[yutohase]

Hmm… I kinda want all my fragments to be hinge points, so like, moments between the situation and action, so that we don’t know what my character chose originally but it might end up being different than what they choose this time around. For example, I’m thinking right now that one of my character’s fragments could be something like, a shimmering blade held against an innocent stranger’s throat, the word “Mercy” escaping their lips.

 

[Grey]

That sounds good to me! Good way of thinking about it.

 

[Grey]

If you get stuck on stats, let me know. But feel free to focus on character concepts for now.

 

[Grey]

How are we doing? Anyone stuck or curious?

 

[yutohase]

Sorry, had a busy weekend. I’ll get to it when I can.

 

[Grey]

No big rush, just wanted to make sure I wasn't dropping the ball or leaving anyone hanging.

 

[Grey]

Sometimes, when Magi arrived on a new world, they'd have someone murdered in orbit and a Necromancer would fix the soul in place to serve as an FTL beacon.

 

[Random Word]

Sorry about the delay, I should have said up front I wouldn't be able to participate immediately, though it took longer than expected. I'm now back home, and recovered from a bit of a cold, and can give this some proper thought.

Is one of the conceits is we all wake up in a stasis chamber at the same time? If so, do we know each other/did we before our memories were lost? Is there a reason we were all being stored together?

No wandering a planet for a millenia, still following orders from a command long dead, with a a culture/religion/rituals building up as the local people adapt to and try to exploit this strange roving natural disaster?

 

[Grey]

There is no rush! I was just concerned by how quiet it got and thought maybe everyone had moved on.

Whether you knew each other in the past is up to you - seeing each other may spur memories. You probably did but there were just enough Bandi at their height that some you may know only by name or sight. Whether I start you in the same location honestly varies with the group and my instincts. Usually Bandi are stored together because they were selected for a mission-advantageous synergy or because they happened to be in the same place for maintenance at the same time (not necessarily maintenance of the Bandi - they may have stopped at a facility to tweak their personal arsenal and await new orders).

I am actually down for the idea that your Bandi was/is a wandering terror that put themselves on autokill for long enough to fugue out of awareness and so still develop amnesia.
I suspect you have ideas?

 

[yutohase]

Hmm… I guess I’ll just post my concept and then work on the stats and dice later. But I’m still sorta figuring out my concept, so sorry.

 

[Grey]

It's cool, everyone seems to still be in the concepting phase. I can always help with stats when you get to 'em - they're just the expression of the concept in the mechanics. so you need concept first.

 

[Random Word]

I am actually down for the idea that your Bandi was/is a wandering terror that put themselves on autokill for long enough to fugue out of awareness and so still develop amnesia.
I suspect you have ideas?

Yes, I was leaning towards a bound demon style character. A fire and forget munition, to be collected later once a world was broken. Spends most of their time with their power largely sealed away, with very specific criteria for who can unbind (arm) them, and you had best hope there's nothing you want preserved in the general direction you point them. In order to make that story interesting, another PC or more likely an interesting NPC would have to meet the unbinding criteria (Must be spiritually pure/good under some philosophy? Has some kind of artefact? Has mastered some kind of esoteric technique? Whatever makes the story fun). The details of the rules under which the powers are unsealed and sealed again would be very important for making the story interesting.

These are a bit too long, but this is the sort of thing I'm ruminating on:

An eternity of darkness and silence. Then falling. The scream of protesting metal as heavy plates break away. White hot rivulets of melted chains running over impervious skin. Warding prayer strips so much ash in the wind. Three right eyes snap open. Colour and shape restored to the void, searing in their intensity. A thousand glimmering glass towers like upthrust knives clutched in desperate hands. No longer falling; flying. A billion fragments of shattered glass, each reflecting the end of a world, fall like incandescent rain. Towers fall like scythed grass. Three left eyes snap open. It would be weeks before anyone returned to accept a surrender. A smile.

Power critically low. Locating emergency sarcophagi beacon. Initiating succor protocols. Entering stasis.

Every few years, since the beginning of time, the creator sent the storm to scourge the wicked from the world. When the birds fled, everyone with sense grabbed what they could and fled with them, or huddled deep beneath the earth. Only the heretics and criminals, lashed to their stakes, met the storm, an offering to deflect its terrible hunger. Some wailed, some gibbered, but in her terror she was silent. The storm descended to look upon her, and so when they beheld its great and terrible visage for the first time since time began, they saw writ upon it curiosity. Rather than flense the skin from their bones, or reduce them to ash, it severed their bonds and departed without a word, and in that moment her apostles learned their purpose. Their saviour may not yet know it, but she would be persuaded the people needed her wisdom.

The heavy lid of the sarcophagi is lifted slightly. A narrow shaft of light. One right eye opens, slowly. The world is pale and grey, serried ranks of armoured men beneath colourless banners on the far hill. The eye fixates. A hand is unbound. A finger lifts. Scouring winds gouge the hillside, tearing through flesh and bone. Screams torn from shattered throats and scattered to the winds before they can be heard. Silence. A chorus of the jubilant cheers of the faithful. The sarcophagi closes.

I figure this theocracy maybe goes on to conquer the planet, and eventually becomes its own little spacefaring empire, conquering other planets with the abandoned weapon that once all but ended their people until they collapse for whatever reason.

 

[Grey]

Well, I can already think of a reason for their collapse - whatever spacecraft they had were not going to be a match for some of the forces abroad in the system now.
I'm thinking a Homeworld kinda angle; the prophet and her weapon leading a pilgrimage back to the promised paradise from which they were originally banished.
They conquer a few fallen colonies on the way to the FTL beacon, arrive in the Palatial System, and possibly start oppressing the current inhabitants of the homeworld when something nastier blows them out of orbit. Your character crashlands on a world both alien and crushingly, intimately familiar. Possibly with the prophet and an honour guard who made it out on a lifeboat.
As for why the prophet was spared... I have ideas if you want to hear them but maybe it'll be fun to find out why your character is powerless to refuse her yet plagued by a dim feeling of resentment, perhaps even hatred.